“They have their own coffee stuff in all the houses they have. Some fancy espresso maker in each house, can you believe that? They don’t even have to leave their homes.” She rolled her eyes.
I didn’t have a coffee maker.
“Huh.” I sat back down, chomping on the pastry. This woman was a werewolf, and I’m more worried about why my house didn’t have an espresso machine. “I’m Christine,” I muttered.
Pamela then began to pour out her life story. Literally, her mouth vomited everything about her. Her dad was a sigma wolf, meaning he was like an alpha wolf that could rule a pack but with the ability to be alone. He took the loner type and ended up stalking his mother, who was also human, and grabbed her and rushed her away to his cabin.
“That sounds terrifying.” I bit into another bite of my pastry wide-eyed.
“Yeah, so terrifyingly romantic,” she swooned. “I hope my mate does something a little different, though. I’m up for the predator-to-prey chase.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
This woman is telling me about her darkest fantasies, and I’ve known her for a few minutes. I shrugged my shoulders. This was oddly entertaining.
“Yeah, when a werewolf finds a mate, it’s almost primal, uncontrollable. I want him to lose it. and then I’ll lead him on this dramatic chase through the forest until—” I pulled my hand up to stop her.
“Okay, TMI.” Pamela covered her mouth again.
“Sorry, I get so carried away.” I laughed at her, wiping my fingers from the sticky scone.
Pamela calmed down after that. Her bubbly personality made me feel more welcome than I had in a while. It was good to talk to another woman instead of talking about vampires, blood, and beloveds. Beloved and mates were considered the same, but still sounded too fantasy for my taste.
Lord, Chrissy, everything is fantasy around you now.
My interest began to peak the more I kept hearing about mates thing. Everything around me was a fantasy, and I felt that bonds were a fantasy. Would that mean there was a slight possibility of mates being really… real? Then how did Mom really know that Justin was her mate? Like, really know? Or did she just take Justin’s word for it? Before I could ask her what drew two souls together, the ringing of a bell introducing more customers had her stand to help them.
Putting my tablet back on the table, I went into the drawing app and pulled out my inexpensive pen to go along with it. The page was blank from yesterday’s erasing of the past. Pictures used to flow so effortlessly, especially when stirred by emotion, but today was different.
The only picture in my head was that of Sebastian and that wonderful dream from this morning. My legs clenched together, and a small curl of my lip had me blushing at those dreadful thoughts in front of all these people.
But I still thought about it.
My pen tapped on the screen of its own accord, and I began to draw.
I stayed the whole day in the coffee shop. Despite my continued protesting to pay, Pamela gave me free refills throughout the day. Her family owned the coffee shop, and she ran it with a few humans as employees.
The flow was steady, no wonder they needed the space, but my mind was still hovering over this delectable picture. Sebastian’s sexy face appeared. It was the perfect ratio from his mid-chest up to the tousled curl on top. He had a sideways smirk, just like in the dream, with a hint of fang, and it was a work of perfection, if I did say so myself.
I’m in deep shit.
Just yesterday, I was telling myself I needed to stay away from this vampire.This vampire could be trouble. He could be after just a sweet licking of my neck. Now he invades my dreams, some wild fantasy of being dominated in a darkly lit hallway, pinning my body as his hands roam down my curvy sides.
“Christine.” That sultry, velvet voice was now in my head. Those cute dimples I remembered so vividly when we met yesterday gave him such a sweet man look, but he could be anything but sweet. His voice held something more profound. I wasn’t sure whether it was the hint of cockiness or that subtle twitch in his Adam’s apple when he introduced himself.
“Christine.” Ny name ran like honey off his lips. I wish he could repeat it so I could save the sweetness and how it just spills with adoration.
“Christine!” I blinked my eyes rapidly, giving a nervous smile as I gazed upward.
Sebastian.
Sweet six-pound five-ounce baby Jesus.
I slammed the tablet on the table. The screen flickered until his glorious face fell from the screen. “H-hi,” I squeaked.
Real smooth, Chrissy.
He held a cup of coffee in his hand, his pinky finger pointed to the chair in front of me, now taking Pamela’s supposed seat. Her mouth pouted from behind the counter until I locked my gaze back at Sebastian.
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”